


The Mistletoe Maneuver

by TheTimidDark



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Gen, Mistletoe, Traps
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-06 20:56:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1111432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTimidDark/pseuds/TheTimidDark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aram decides to increase his odds of finding a date for the holidays.  Unfortunately, people around the workplace aren't too thrilled about it.  Especially those caught in his trap and forced to share a kiss...  Chapter 2 picks up at New Years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Mistletoe Maneuver

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Once again, I own nothing.

 

The Mistletoe Maneuver

 

 

"What the hell is _that_ doing here?"

Meera glanced up to where Liz's eyes were focused, on the ceiling at the entrance to the "Think Tank", the room used for strategizing at their black site.  She arched an elegant black brow.  "Mistletoe," she said and quirked her lips in a slight smile.  "Aram's idea.  He calls it ‘The Mistletoe Maneuver.’ He's hoping to catch a few ladies under it himself."  Her smile spread as she leaned toward Liz, saying lowly, "He keeps placing himself by the door when he knows a pretty girl's likely to enter the room.  He got Faith and Elsie already, and I hear he was looking for you, too."  She glanced surreptitiously around the room.  "Lucky for you, I think he went to the bathroom."

Liz huffed a laugh, shaking her head at the older man's juvenile antics.  "That's... kind of pathetic," she said through a grin.  Really, she liked Aram, but the man was hopeless when it came to women.  It seemed to be a trait hard wired into all computer geeks' DNA.

Meera crossed her arms, leaning against her desk as she shook her head.  "No, pathetic is around the mistletoe there, there, there, and there."  As she spoke, she pointed to small sensors that looked like round buzzers - one on the inner framework on each side of the door, one on the edge of the copier desk three feet into the room, and one directly across from that about the same distance on the edge of another desk.

Wary, Liz narrowed her gaze at them before sweeping her eyes back to her coworker.  "What do they do?"

Rolling her eyes, Meera explained, "Well, as you can imagine, some people have taken issue with his little bundle of holiday cheer and refused to kiss.  But those devices trigger something in our handy new 'ID bracelets'," her voice heavily emphasized a pair of quotations, "when two of them pass through the doorway simultaneously, which turns them from a harmless piece of metal into a weapon capable of delivering a painful shock."  At this, Liz's jaw dropped.  "It also sends an alarm to Aram's phone, letting him know his trap has been tripped.  Only he has the power to deactivate the bracelets, you see."

Liz was in utter disbelief.  "Thats...  That's crazy!  What about Phil's pacemaker-"

"Those with medical conditions that can be aggravated by a nasty shock weren't given bracelets," she interrupted, smiling thinly.  "Kind of makes you wish you weren't the picture of health, doesn't it?"

Liz, mouth still hanging open, didn't know how to respond.  That was taking things more than just a step too far.

Meera tipped her chin toward the door, and Liz turned to see Aram enter.  The techie grinned when he saw her, coming to a stop just inside the doorway but carefully past the sensors.

"Agent Keen," he greeted, "so nice to see you this morning!  You know, there was something I've been meaning to show..."

He drew up short when the oddly neutral look she'd been giving him turned to ice.  His eyes shifted up to Meera before returning to Liz, suddenly understanding that he'd been exposed.  The grin fell like a bad cake.

Before Liz could say anything about irresponsibility or feet entering tight, unnatural places, Aram hightailed it back out the door.  She snorted.  He could run for now, but she was going to give him a hell of a lecture when he worked up the nerve to show his face again.

Meera was laughing, covering the fit of giggles with her hand.  "Did you see his face?" she asked.  "From debonair to distressed in two seconds flat!"

Liz joined in her laughter, and they were both clutching their sides when male voices met their ears.

Cooper was speaking urgently, "I don't care what you have to do, just grease him.  If we can get-"

Cooper's voice was interrupted by a low, mechanical buzz.  Beside him, Ressler glanced around to find the source, gaze finally resting on one of the sensors on the door.  Cooper threw up his hands.  "Christ!  I forgot about the damned plant!"  Clearly more than irritated, his eyes landed on the two amused women, who quickly lost their humor in the face of his anger.  "Where's that idiot, Aram?  He's going to deactivate this _now_."

"What's going on?" demanded Ressler.

Meera answered Cooper.  "Gone, Sir.  Keen scared Aram, and he ran off."

Liz smirked, pleased at the chance to tease Ressler.  "Pucker up, Donald," she quipped, using Red's tone and address because she knew it would get under his skin.  His answering glare was acidic.

Cooper rubbed the bridge of his nose.  "Let's get this over with so we can find Aram and get on with our lives."

Ressler gave Cooper a disbelieving double-take and griped, "What?  We're really gonna...?"  He shook his head, backing up a step - almost out of the safe zone.  "Man, I can't do this."

"What's wrong, Donald?  Insecure?" Liz goaded, flashing a grin when his face twisted into a snarl.  He was just about to open his mouth when Cooper stepped between them.

"That's enough, you two," he said, adopting his most severe boss tone.  "Agent Ressler, if you want to be electrocuted until Aram can be tracked down, be my guest.  _Or_ , you can man-up and just do this so we can leave.  My time is precious.  And because your time _is_ my time, it's precious to me by extension.  So what's it gonna be?"

Sufficiently cowed, Ressler winced.  "Fuck...  Just hurry up."

Meera and Liz stood to get a better view while Cooper leaned down to Ressler.  Liz fumbled around in her pocket for her phone, but she had no real hope of getting to it before they managed a smooch.  Besides, she wasn't about to tear her eyes away for one moment to find the camera app.

It was a good decision, too.  When Cooper's lips met Ressler's, Ressler's face scrunched up like Cooper had used a dog turd for chapstick.  Liz understood then that being without this memory would have been one of her deepest regrets.

They broke apart and avoided looking at each other.  Another, higher tone came from the sensors that indicated conditions for passing safely through had been met.  They hastened into the room, splitting to opposite ends.

As Cooper passed Liz and Meera, he paused.  "Agent Keen?"

"Sir?"

His words held an edge.  "Since you were responsible for Aram's disappearing act, I expect you to find him and bring him here as quickly as you can.  No delay, do you hear me?"

Chagrined, Liz pursed her lips and dipped her head in a brisk nod.  "Yes, Sir."

Head down, she wove through the desks to the doorway, mind on places she could check for their information specialist.  With her luck, he'd hunkered down in the men's room...

She didn't look up as she passed into the doorway.  Really, she should have expected that she wouldn't pass by unscathed, but so intent was she on her task that she didn't immediately stop.  The buzz of warning on the trap startled her into awareness of her surroundings, and only then did she stop concentrating on the whom and remember the what that had sent her from the room to begin with.  A sudden spark of dread halted her footsteps abruptly, barely in time.  But the low and distinguished voice that addressed her from somewhere beyond the edge of her peripheral made her stomach bottom out like an amusement park ride.

"I was looking for you, Lizzie," Red was saying.  She lifted her head to see his face, and her expression was odd - something he couldn't immediately decipher.  Ignoring it for a moment, he said, "We've got another blacklister to apprehend, but first..."  His head swiveled to the right, tracking the source of the sound he kept hearing.  His eyes settled on a sensor by his arm.  He touched it lightly, curious.  "What is that god-awful noise?"

Liz sighed, not wanting to acknowledge the situation in which she now found herself, but realizing that he needed to know.  "Aram's idea."  She pointed above their heads, watching his eyes follow her finger to the mistletoe.  Realization dawned on him, tinged with something else very briefly before he caught her eye.  "He's intent on forcing everyone to kiss..."

Lips drawn to a thin line, Red rounded on Cooper who, along with everyone else in the room, had turned when the alarm sounded.  "This is ridiculous.  I know you're not the picture of good sense, Harold, but really... you allow your employees to play childish games like this in a government building?"

Cooper regarded him with an identical expression of distaste.  "I just set Agent Keen the task of finding Aram and ridding us of the nuisance."

Red laughed, short and mocking.  "That should have fallen to you.  Agent Keen has some actual work to get done now, whereas all you'll be doing is standing around sipping a mocha frappé and exchanging useless pleasantries with your riffraff underlings."  He cut off Cooper's angry response at the first syllable, waving his arms in front of him and saying, "You know what?  Never mind.  I saw the culprit cowering in the lobby.  _I’ll_ retrieve him."

Liz didn't have time to tell him to wait as Red swiftly exited.  "Stop!" was halfway out of her mouth when he paused, hand twitching into a fist.  His jaw was tight as he turned back toward the Think Tank.

"That's an electric shock, Harold," Red said tightly, low voice deadly.  "Why is there a current traveling through my arm?"

Liz, using her right arm (without the bracelet,) reached out to tug him back into the safety of the sensors.  He glanced at her quickly, face only minimally showing his relief before he set a cold glare on Cooper.

Cooper looked almost satisfied that the criminal suffered, however briefly.  He answered smoothly, without a hint of his simmering anger.  "Compliments of Aram.  He rigged the doorway to refuse passage until the right conditions were met.  Seeing as how you're standing underneath mistletoe, I assume you understand what those conditions are."

Gaze shifting to Liz, Red studied her face, noting the resigned look in her blue eyes.  "Send someone else for him," he told Cooper, not glancing away.  He'd just begun rebuilding their trust.  The last thing he needed was a setback, and kissing her would probably be a very awkward setback.

"Not a chance," Ressler responded coldly.  Cooper remained silent - an obvious signal that he was siding with Ressler.  "You're not so special that you deserve an out," he scoffed, eyes trained on his female team member.  "So pucker up, _Lizzie_."

Having her words thrown back at her stung.  Liz leveled him with a glare that was equal parts hatred and rebellion.  If the bastard wanted a show, _she_ wasn't going to whine about her poor fortune.  She'd show them all she had a bigger set than her arrogant coworker, and she'd do it on her own terms.

Grasping Red by the lapels, she jerked him down to meet her lips.  She almost smirked when the surprise made him tense and issue a mild grunt, but his mouth reflexively conformed softly to the contours of her lips.  The thought that kissing him wasn't as repulsive as she expected it to be flit through her mind a second before she released him.  Catching Ressler's eye smugly as the sensors beeped, Liz turned and walked from the room, heading in the direction of the lobby.

Standing alone in the doorway, Red seemed somewhat dumbfounded.  Who knew he'd come to work today and kiss the object of his obsession?  Mentally shaking himself out of his daze, Red looked at Ressler, who was almost as stunned by the incident as he was.  Making an 'O' with his thumb and forefinger, he shot the agent a wink and a smile before trailing after Liz.

There was no way he was staying in that room of idiots until she returned.  Besides, it seemed he had a mischievous little Israeli to thank.


	2. Midnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short follow-up set at New Years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: No need to really say it, but I don't own these characters.

**Midnight**

 

 

Liz found Reddington on the veranda of his room on the eleventh floor of the hotel.  The french doors were flung invitingly wide, letting in the frigid night air; no snow dusted the ground, but the temperature couldn’t be much more than thirty degrees.  As she approached, he made no move to acknowledge her presence, although the steady clack of her heels over the wood floor surely announced her intrusion into his peaceful reverie.  She stopped beside him, shivering as the breeze cut through the velvet dress she wore, wanting to lean against the wrought iron guardrail but knowing that doing so would be a shocking wake up call.

Like Reddington, she held a glass of chardonnay loosely in her right hand.  It was only half full; she was saving the rest to herald in the new year.  Spending New Years in Manhattan rather than with her husband had been a hard choice, but they’d made progress in the tracking of another criminal on the blacklist.  It led them to this hotel – a ritzy establishment on the edge of the city where they’d spent the last two nights.  Liz felt the luxury was a waste, given their purpose for being there, but she couldn’t fault the view.  The Manhattan Bridge stretched before them beautifully shining, mirrored lights dancing below on the water’s reflective surface.  The waning moon was caught in the river, wavering in the ripples stirred by the wind.

Liz tore her eyes away from the lovely scene to look at Red.  They trailed from his left hand, relaxed by his leg and stark against the dark navy fabric of his expensive suit, up his shoulder to his pensive face.  His fedora was absent; he must have left it in the room before coming out.  As she watched him gaze out over the water, the thoughtful expression retreated, replaced by the collected mask he showed to the world.  He turned, finally acknowledging her, and offered a slight smile.

“Tired of the party?” he asked, referring to the packed ballroom from which she’d just come.

Liz hadn’t been in the mood for a celebration.  Attending the party had merely been something to do – a reprieve from the loneliness of her room.  “I was just about to cut loose on the dance floor, but I seemed to have lost my date,” she responded dryly, earning a chuckle.  “They were playing my favorite song, Gangnam Style... but without someone to crawl on all fours between my legs, I would look like a real idiot.”

Red snorted.  “I wouldn’t dirty my knees on that floor, and I wouldn’t expect you to, either,” he said, casting his eyes back to the river.  He added with a trace of a smile, “Not even if I wanted you to.”

Imagining the only scenario she could think of in which he might want her on her knees, Liz blushed.  Suddenly uncomfortable, she continued with her query.  “Why did you leave?”

He shrugged, watching the lights of the cars passing over the bridge.  “Too crowded,” he answered, though really there were too many reasons to name.  He might have stayed, however, if he’d known a romp between Lizzie’s legs was on the agenda.

Liz knew there was more to it but didn’t press him.  It wasn’t any of her business.  She just needed to make sure he didn’t sneak out and spoil their arrangement.

Not that she expected him to.

“It’s almost midnight,” she said.

Red turned his wrist to see the time on his watch.  Enough moonlight shown down that he could barely see the minute hand on the small notch before the twelve.  “Less than a minute,” he informed her, angling his body toward her.  He studied her pale cheekbones, blue in the subdued light of the moon.  A dark ring of mascara made her eyes stand out attractively, shimmering with the reflection of luminaries floating on the water.  His eyes then fell to her lips, no less prominent with their deep red hue, and he remembered their short but wonderful kiss under the mistletoe.

Below the veranda, people were chanting the countdown to the new year.  Their voices drifted from a distance – probably from the ballroom’s large balcony, Liz guessed.  “The countdown’s started,” she told Red in case he couldn’t hear.  He didn’t seem to be paying attention; his stare was unsettling.  The voices reached five.  “Is there anything left in that glass?”  She nodded to the flute in his hand.

“A little,” he answered quietly.  A chorus of “Three!” burst through the night.

Liz readied her own flute, raising it up in the space between them for a toast.  “Two.”

Smiling, grateful for his company on this special occasion, Red lifted his flute to hers.  “One.”

“Happy New Year!” rang out from below, and very faintly, the tune of Auld Lang Syne.  Liz smiled at her criminal partner as they clinked their glasses and quickly drained them of the rest of their chardonnay.  She’d no sooner lowered the empty flute from her mouth when Red’s lips replaced it – soft and slightly parted over her lower lip.  He applied gentle pressure, free hand cupping her cheek to hold her in place.  Frozen, she caught his eyes and tried to tell herself the tug she felt in her gut was shock and not desire. 

Red savored these few seconds with her, honestly surprised she hadn’t slapped him by now.  He would even swear her eyes had darkened a degree, but it could have easily been the poor lighting.  Unwilling to press his luck, he drew away from her, bereft and chilled by the icy wind.  Now that he noticed the temperature, Red could see her shivering too.  “Payback for the mistletoe incident,” he murmured.

“Right…”  Liz continued to stare at the brazen man, still showing no reaction.  A moment later, however, she turned on her heel, striding into his suite.  “Get in here and close the doors, Red; it’s cold.”

He followed her into the room, doing as she suggested while still watching her flee to the door.  Unable to resist teasing her, he called, “You can always keep me warm.”

“In your dreams,” she tossed over her shoulder.

Probably.  Red shook his head as her hand settled over the doorknob.  “Happy New Year, Lizzie,” he remembered to say as she opened the door.

She paused momentarily, wondering whether or not to respond.  She was married; she should be angry with him for kissing her.  But part of her agreed that he had the right to retaliation, although _that_ situation had been mostly out of her control.  “Happy New Year,” she finally returned then walked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Taking the suggestion of one of my reviewers, I give you this. It's short, it's... not humorous, like I'd originally intended when I set to writing it (actually, it went in a completely different direction than I'd anticipated.) And sorry there wasn't much to the kiss, but I plan to update this for the holidays, where their interactions might progressively become more intimate/honest. I hope you enjoyed it anyway. As usual, thank you for taking the time out of your day to read my stories! I very much appreciate it!

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: Why do I always surprise Red with kisses? I know Christmas is over, but I'm still in the spirit. The idea is cliché, but it's always been my tradition to read mistletoe fics from different fandoms around the holidays, and I didn't find one in this category. Correct me if I'm overlooking one. Anyway, this was a silly little story that I figured I should post before the new year. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed. Happy New Year!


End file.
